


Nothing Less Than Forever

by Yahtzee



Category: Alias
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-29
Updated: 2011-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-20 20:45:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yahtzee/pseuds/Yahtzee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jack makes Irina an offer during her imprisonment by the CIA, she decides to use the opportunity to play her highest-stakes game yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Less Than Forever

1.

 

Irina presses one hand to the glass as she watches Jack go. Is she reaching after him or pushing against the walls that close her in? She’s disquieted that she doesn’t know.

He might be setting her up. It was not so long ago that he was willing to risk even Sydney’s life to catch Irina in a lie. How much simpler this is – hold out some semblance of freedom, allow her the chance to confess, and then hide his smile behind his stone-still face as her pardon is renounced and her execution order reinstated. Clean and cunning: Jack’s mind works this way.

But only a week before, they were together in Kashmir, in the prison that Irina hates as no other place on earth – and Jack risked not only his life but Sydney’s to come to her aid. The rescue was unlooked-for. Inconvenient. Revealing.

In some sense, she has gotten through to him. Probably not enough to manipulate him, not yet, but Irina no longer thinks he is trying to get her killed.

So the offer is legitimate. She can tell all, go to some safehouse on Puget Sound and – what? Have visits from Sydney on holidays, she supposes.

Then the thought of that hits Irina, of Sydney walking through the door at Christmas time with a present in her hand and a smile on her face. Her throat tightens, and she despises herself for her weakness. Irina knows she must remain strong, for the sake of her daughter – her younger daughter, the one she has devoted most of her life to finding. Even this betrayal of Sydney and Jack is all for Nadia.

If Sloane accepts her terms, if he collects the final items for the Telling, and if she can steal the artifacts before he gets to them, everything will come out right at last. That has to be enough --

Irina breathes in sharply as the intricate plan in her mind suddenly shifts and reveals a whole new shape.

One lie – one simple lie – could change the entire game plan. It could bring Jack and Sydney to her side as nothing else ever could; they are not as powerful as Sloane, but they are not without resources, and Irina trusts Sydney completely. Jack – well, in this, she could trust Jack.

To earn his trust forever, all Irina has to do is tell one more lie. But it is a lie so grotesque that she’s not sure she can say the words.

 _Jack could discover that you were lying. If he did, there would be no end to his hate. He would kill you with his hands and revel in it. His only restraint would be ensuring that Sydney didn’t witness your death._

No plan comes without risk. The only question is, which plan is more likely to lead her to Nadia?

Slowly Irina settles herself onto her bunk. She stretches out and pulls the blanket over her, as if to sleep, but her breathing is falling into the familiar pattern of meditation. This is one of the most important decisions she will ever make, and she means to choose well.

 

2.

Kendall tosses it out lightly, at the end of the debriefing about Marshall Flinkman’s rescue by SD-6: “By the way, Derevko’s asked to meet with you again.”

If he thinks catching Jack off-guard will trick a reaction out of him, he’s mistaken, as Jack is pleased to demonstrate. “I’ll head down there later.”

He can feel Kendall’s eyes watching him as he pours himself a coffee and walks to his desk for some report review. Jack is certain he’s not fooling Kendall; a message from Irina could hardly be insignificant to Jack, now or ever. But he’s proving a point about self-control. That, at least, Kendall understands.

Jack naturally expects his offer to be turned down. He hasn’t even made arrangements for the safehouse in Puget Sound, though he knows he can pull the strings to get it done if need be. There will be no need, however. Irina hasn’t come this far to confess now.

Yet he feels a flicker of uncertainty that he refuses to call hope.

There were moments during their trip to Kashmir when Jack found himself vulnerable to Irina – not to her beauty, but to her evident pain when they entered the prison, and to her love for their daughter. (Why does he believe in that love, despite the lies, despite the abandonment? Jack isn’t sure if that’s true understanding of Irina’s character or his own inability to comprehend anyone not loving Sydney.) Like a fool, he kept waiting for Irina to speak, to say something, anything, that would help him understand what happened to them both.

Even at his angriest and most bitter, Jack has always felt certain that their parting in 1981 is something that happened to them both. He wonders if Irina would ever admit that.

She was silent in Kashmir; she’ll keep her secrets now. Once his coffee is done, he strolls downstairs to receive his refusal.

Irina sits on her bunk, and for the first time, she does not rise to face him at the glass. Her gaze is downcast, her shoulders slumped. She seems – uncertain. It’s hard to apply that word to Irina Derevko.

“Kendall said you wanted to see me.” Jack is aware that his delivery is off, affected by his puzzlement about Irina. So he keeps it brief. “Have you considered my offer?”

“Yes. I accept.”

“… you mean, you’ll confess.”

She turns to him and nods. What should feel like a blaze of triumph is muted by the raw pain Jack sees in her, and the illogical but undeniable conviction that he is not the source of that pain.

He didn’t plan anything to say. Stupid of him. “I’ll – I’ll get Kendall.”

“Not Kendall,” Irina says. “I want to talk to you and to Sydney. You’re the ones I have to tell.”

“Sydney?” After all her machinations to turn Sydney against him, Irina’s willing to let their daughter hear the whole story? This can’t be right.

But Irina nods. “Let’s speak on the roof. We won’t be on camera there.”

“If you think you can retract your confession so easily –“

“You’ll be recording me. I wouldn’t retract in any case.” Their eyes meet, but only for a second. Irina looks away quickly, and somehow, it’s even more unsettling than her stare. “This is about our privacy as a family.”

Jack remembers his time in prison, when he was interrogated about every last detail of their sex life as a married couple – less for fact-finding, he thinks, and more to humiliate him and break him down. Privacy matters more to him now than it did before.

It troubles him that Irina knew that without having to be told.

 

3.

 

The guards lead Irina up to the roof. The gray, cloudy sky is too changeable for her tastes. But if she has to make this speech in the rain, with thunder booming all around, she’ll do it.

Already, on some levels, she regrets this. Why didn’t she play out her game? It was going perfectly. And the enormity of what she’s about to do to Jack eviscerates her. What little righteous anger she has is vanishing, leaving her without fuel.

But she’s made up her mind. Irina needs allies she can trust. That’s not Sloane. Sydney, however – and even Jack, if sufficiently motivated – they will stand behind their common goals forever. Nothing less than forever will do.

The wind tugs at her hair, and Irina hugs herself against the chill; her prison clothes are inadequate to the unseasonable weather. She stares out over Los Angeles for a few moments, thinking idly that despite all her longing for the people she left behind here, she’s never missed this flat, plastic city.

When she hears the metal clank of the door to the roof, Irina flinches slightly. She can tell it’s Jack and Sydney by their footsteps -- Sydney’s proper heels, Jack’s heavy stride.

In some ways, the hardest part is turning to see their faces.

Sydney already looks crushed. She had dared to believe in her mother, and she was wrong. As foolish as that faith was, Irina had loved her even more for it. Jack, who has been proved right, does not appear any happier for his vindication. He brandishes the audio recorder as though it were a weapon. Soon he will regret that any of his words were captured.

“You’re here to tell us why – why you really turned yourself in.” Sydney’s lip quivers, but only for a moment. “Your true agenda. What you’ve been after all along.”

“When I’m done, you’ll understand,” Irina says.

Jack lifts his chin, and there’s the anger she’d been counting on. This is easier if she can despise him just a little. “Just – begin at the beginning.”

What an impossible thing to do.

Irina takes a deep breath. “I am working with Arvin Sloane.”

“Sloane?” Sydney’s eyes widen. “Mom – how could you?”

“Sark’s change of employment makes more sense now,” Jack says. He thinks he understands this, and his satisfaction is pitiful, given what Irina knows. “When did he approach you?”

“He didn’t. I approached him, through Mr. Sark.” This part is all true; it comes out easily enough. “I was going to manipulate the CIA. Sloane will take care of the Alliance; he wants to destroy them, in revenge for the kill order they gave for Emily. The two of us both wanted sole control of Rambaldi’s most important artifacts, so that we could build his grandest design – Il Dire.”

The name shivers on the wind. Irina feels it ripple through her.

“The Telling.” Sydney is blinking quickly, but determined to look strong. “What does it tell?”

Irina hugs herself more tightly. “Sloane doesn’t know. He thinks it’s a – doomsday weapon, or a means of manipulating reality itself. He’s mistaken.”

Jack’s narrow eyes appear almost entirely black. “Sloane doesn’t know what the Telling does, but you do.”

“Yes.”

A tear slips down her cheek. For a woman so controlled in every other way, Irina is damnably quick to weep; she’s tried to break herself of it for decades, without success. Today she expects to cry more than she has in years.

“Mom?” Sydney takes a step closer. “Tell us what it does.”

“Jack, I’m sorry.” Irina looks at him, desperate that he should at least comprehend the depth of her regret. “You will never know how badly I wanted to keep this from you. To spare you.”

He isn’t impressed. “You haven’t spared me before.”

Slowly, Irina says, “This is worse than all the rest.”

Jack’s face changes so subtly that most people wouldn’t notice; Irina recognizes the light in his eyes as fear.

“What could be worse?” Sydney keeps glancing from parent to parent, seeking clarity that isn’t forthcoming. “How does it get worse than your lying to us? Betraying us?”

Irina gulps in a breath that could’ve been a sob. “Il Dire is designed to lead the way to a woman foretold in the Rambaldi prophecies. To –“

The lie begins.

“To our daughter.”

Sydney frowns. “I’m here. I’m right here. Why are they trying to find me when they know where I am?”

Forcing herself to look Jack in the eyes, Irina says, “Our younger daughter.”

His head jerks back awkwardly, as if he’d been slapped.

“I wasn’t sure when I left.” Irina retreats to the truth now; she needs steadiness under her feet if she is to make them believe. “Nerves, I thought, because I was scared – please believe that if I’d known, if I’d allowed myself to believe that I might be pregnant again, I would have done things so much differently.”

“Oh, my God.” Sydney takes a step backward, her mouth slightly agape in what might be horror or wonder, or both. “You – you had another baby.”

“You’re lying.” Jack takes a step forward, and for the first time ever, Irina thinks he might hit her. “You are telling this – monstrous falsehood in an effort to – to throw us off, distract us –“

He must believe her. He must believe in at least the possibility. If not, Irina has abandoned her first plan for nothing, and Nadia is truly lost.

Irina pulls up the hem of her dark-blue prison shirt, exposing her naked belly to the cold air. She shivers so hard that her words rattle in her throat. “Stretch marks. You see? And you know I didn’t have any with Sydney.” Every night Jack had been home, he had helped his wife rub cocoa butter into her skin. She never had a mark on her; they’d been so proud of that. No one had taken such care of her in prison. Somehow Irina manages to summon up the false righteous outrage she’s used for so much of her time here; it’s never comfortable, and never as odious to her as it is at this moment, but she needs it badly. “This is why I had to be alone in Kashmir. That was where I gave birth to her. That was where I lost her. I thought – if I could find records, some hint of where she’s gone –“

“What do you mean, you lost her?” Sydney is still wrapping her mind around it all. “Mom, did they – take her from you?”

The tears come harder now. Irina can only nod at first, but she manages to choke out the words, “When she was one day old.”

“My sister. I have a sister.” Sydney says it softly, almost to herself.

There was never any doubt that Sydney would believe. Jack, though – Irina looks at him, eyes pleading. Let him see the depth of her fear, the agony of her loss. Maybe seeing everything that is true will keep him from seeing everything that is a lie.

Jack shakes his head slowly. “You could have had a child ten years or more after you left us. This – display -- proves nothing.”

She hadn’t even realized she was still holding her shirt up. Irina lets it drop; her fingers are cramped like claws. “If you investigate, you’ll find the few leads that I found. I know she was in South America for a while – I know that she has the name Nadia –“

“Nadia?” Sydney brightens a little. Jack flinches at the name.

Irina continues, “I don’t know her last name. But there are records of her – and you can check her age for yourself, Jack, that’s all I ask.”

Jack’s eyes darken. “This is what you told Arvin Sloane?”

He is far too close to the truth. Quickly, Irina says, “Sloane knows nothing of my pregnancy or of Nadia. He wants the Rambaldi device, and he’s figured out that there’s another woman the prophecies point to. If we don’t find her, and he does – Jack, what might he do to Nadia?”

The wind ruffles Jack’s hair. For a moment, Irina can see the curl that he tries so hard to hide. She remembers him when they were newlyweds, still really more a boy than a man, trying to comb down those curls before he went to work. All his vulnerabilities are familiar to Irina; he knows so few of hers. It’s not fair. She realizes that. She wishes she didn’t need it.

As tears fill her eyes again, Irina adds, “Sometimes I thought about contacting you – letting you know that I was alive, the truth about – about so many things, but how could I have told you about Nadia?”

Truth.

“How could I ever face you and say that I lost our daughter?”

Lie.

“Jack, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I know you can never forgive me. You shouldn’t.”

Truth.

Jack steps back, his movements clumsy with shock. “Go to hell.”

With that, he stalks off the roof, denying her even the sight of his face.

4.

Jack refuses to believe it.

He cannot have another child with – with that woman. Not even fate could be that cruel. For 20 years Jack has sustained himself with one simple phrase: I had Sydney. That was what made his marriage to Irina Derevko worth the pain, what gave him strength during his prison sentence, and what focused his sense of purpose during 12 years of double-agent work. No matter what else had happened to him, Sydney had come into his life and none of them had ever succeeded in taking her away.

If he had another daughter, it would make a mockery of his endurance. A mockery of him as a father – as pitiful as he was with young Sydney, at least he got the basic job done: She is strong, smart, educated and happy. She never went to bed hungry, never lacked for anything. But another little girl, one he had never known, fed, hugged, spoken to, even seen –

(The image of a newborn child wrapped in a rough prison blanket swims before his vision, fragile little fingers peeking over the hem.)

Tactically, a lie would be perfect strategy for Derevko. Realistically, there is no reason that her second pregnancy could not have taken place anytime in the 10 to 15 years after she left him. So Jack’s common sense tells him Irina’s story is more likely than not to be false.

And yet he can still envision the baby in the blanket.

Jack wishes he could melt the audio recorder down to scrap metal and erase every word of Irina’s story, but then there would be questions, and Jack would have to repeat it himself. He drops the recorder off in Kendall’s office, without comment, and immediately stalks to his car to drive to SD-6.

He still has a job to do, after all.

**

It’s strange, being in SD-6 and knowing that Arvin is aware that Jack is a double agent.

Irina didn’t say so explicitly, but no other scenario makes sense.

They smile at each other briefly when Jack comes in, and Arvin even chats with him briefly about some operational details. They wear their masks very well. Despite the fact that Jack has told himself for years that his friendship with Arvin is merely an illusion, there’s something disquieting in the realization that this is true for Arvin as well.

The fact that Sydney’s double agent status is also known is even more troubling. But Jack considers it at length; he needs the distraction.

Fact: Derevko and Sloane plan to bring down the Alliance. Fact: Sloane’s ascent to the highest levels of the Alliance means that he knows more about the organization’s vulnerabilities than anyone else. These facts indicate a high probability that Derevko and Sloane’s plan can succeed. In the absence of any other comprehensive CIA countermeasures, Derevko and Sloane’s plan should be supported, not stopped.

That should make an interesting memo for Kendall. Jack doesn’t look forward to writing it. But he concentrates on trying to guess what Arvin’s out might be – because there is no chance that this plan doesn’t involve Arvin walking away untouched, at least in Arvin’s mind.

The intellectual puzzle could easily absorb Jack’s whole day, but any chance of that vanishes when Sydney arrives mid-afternoon.

Their eyes meet across the office, and Jack quickly glances down at the files in his hand. He means to duck into another corridor, but Sydney’s at his side in an instant. “Dad.”

“Hi. I’m in the middle of something.”

“We need to talk.”

It’s unavoidable, and Jack knows it, but he had hoped to at least put it off for a day or so, until the pain was less raw. But that’s not how Sydney is – when something troubles her, she has to worry at it until she finds resolution, no matter how impractical that might be. And now that Jack knows that Arvin is aware of Sydney’s double agent status, he doesn’t want her to begin behaving erratically – perhaps tipping Arvin off that they’ve learned how much he knows. “All right.”

They go into a nearby conference room. As soon as the walls louver shut, Sydney holds up an ink pen that Jack recognizes as an anti-eavesdrop device. She punches it with one finger, and the words spill out. “Ninety seconds. Dad, do you believe her?”

“No.”

Sydney’s eyes narrow. “Because you don’t want another child with her, who could remind you of your mistake.”

She understands so little, sometimes. “Because it’s more likely to be a lie than not.”

“But Mom did have another baby. Those stretch marks – there’s no other explanation.”

“That much appears to be true, yes.”

“Then no matter what, I have a sister. Somewhere, I have a sister.” Her face shines with hope. “Dad – I have to find her.”

“Which is no doubt precisely what your mother wants.”

“You’ve proved me wrong, okay? I was naive to believe Mom turned herself in to do the right thing. She lied to us. I get it. But my sister is not a lie.” Sydney straightens. “Are you going to help me or not?”

“I won’t allow you to run off carelessly on such an errand by yourself.”

Sydney blinks. “So – you’re going to search for Nadia too.”

“Yes.” Wasn’t that what he’d said?

“Okay.” They waste a few precious seconds in silence, the harsh fluorescent light of SD-6 headquarters graying their surroundings, before Sydney says, “You really don’t think Nadia might be yours?”

“I don’t see any point in discussing this. When we – when we find her, we can do testing. That should resolve the issue.”

“Genetic tests? That’s all you can think about?” Sydney is obviously about to swing into a full lecture, but then she stops. Jack realizes that he’s not hiding his reaction as well as he would hope.

(A rough prison blanket would be too harsh for an infant’s tender skin. And Jack remembers the prison at Kashmir, how damp and foul the corridors were, and wonders how a new life could possibly thrive there. He remembers holding Sydney when she was only one day old. She was so small.)

More gently, Sydney whispers, “Dad?”

The anti-eavesdrop device beeps, ending the conversation. “That sounds acceptable,” Jack says briskly. “Turn in your suggested mission parameters before the end of the day, and I’ll see about Dixon’s availability.”

“Sounds good.”

Jack lays the file folders out on the conference room desk; he might as well work here as anywhere. His throat feels tight, and the walls are too close, but he can ignore that feeling. All his feelings. He must.

When Sydney rises to go, he feels a short moment of relief – and then his daughter rests one hand on his shoulder. She says nothing. The silent consolation is almost more than he can bear.

But he sits still, allowing the touch, for the few seconds before Sydney leaves. Long after she’s gone, Jack imagines he can feel the weight of her hand.

 

5.

 

Irina is given a business suit to wear, a boxy, dowdy thing she dislikes. However, she understands that this is meant as a kindness of sorts – so that she will have her dignity at the hearing. That, or the CIA doesn’t want to admit they’ve been driven to a stalemate by a mere prisoner.

Once dressed, she allows the guards to lead her to the day’s meeting. The room is large – obviously designed for public hearings, not gatherings like this, with Kendall and a few other sour-faced bureaucrats upon a podium. Sydney isn’t present, but Jack is. He’s not sitting beside Kendall but standing at the side of the room, as though he were a security guard. He doesn’t look at Irina as she comes in.

Kendall taps his pencil against the desk, the gesture of a former smoker who still doesn’t know what to do with his hands. “Well, Ms. Derevko, it appears your story has changed.”

“So did the CIA’s offer.”

“Agent Bristow made that offer without permission.” Kendall’s dark glare sweeps sideways, but Jack shows no reaction.

Irina tilts her head, pretending to consider this. “Does that mean I’ve been lied to?”

Another tap of the pencil on the desk. “Given that you’ve now provided us with the possibility of capturing Arvin Sloane and destroying the Alliance in one fell swoop – the offer seems fair enough. If your plan works, you can live out your days on Puget Sound.”

She doesn’t smile. Irina knew the outcome the moment they gave her the business suit instead of shackles.

**

After the rest of the hearing – a thorough rundown of her plans with Sloane, along with instructions for capturing Server 47 long before Sloane has a chance to get away – Irina returns to her cell. Her head aches, and her throat is sore from talking. She wonders idly whether she should’ve mentioned that Emily Sloane is still alive. No, the CIA doesn’t need to know that. It’s something for Sydney to learn later, after Sloane has taken up residence in within these walls of stone and glass.

The gate clicks, and Irina looks up to see Jack. The bruised look on his face cuts her deeply, but she forces herself to rise. “It went well,” she says.

“Your plan is logical,” Jack admits. “Flawless, perhaps. I have to give you credit.”

“Sark deserves some of it. He came up with a few key details.” This elicits no response. “So, tell me about Puget Sound.”

“You’ll be on an island.” Jack seems to be looking past her; his eyes won’t quite meet hers. “The area is known as Possession Sound. No large towns nearby, hardly any shipping traffic. They tell me the safe house is small, but it should be more comfortable than your present situation. You’ll be under satellite surveillance 24/7 and be implanted with a permanent tracker in your bone marrow. You’ll have to report in frequently throughout the day, and a strike team is always nearby, due to federal security installations in the area.”

Bone marrow – too deep to cut out. A few possibilities die. “Will Sydney be able to visit me there?”

“If she wants.”

“What about Nadia?” The name still hurts to speak aloud. “If we find her –“

“You can have whatever visitors you like, as long as they have no criminal record in any jurisdiction.”

“You don’t like talking about her, do you?”

Jack snaps, “I intend to find your daughter. I intend to find out if she’s my daughter. Until those two things have been accomplished, I don’t think there’s anything else to say on the subject.”

He’s going to run tests. Irina’s heart sinks. Not that she didn’t think this might happen, but she had hoped not. When he learns the truth, Jack will attempt to strike at her on Possession Sound; Sydney, even more disillusioned than before, might not defend her mother. If she can get Jack to fall in love with the idea of another daughter, she might yet prevent his discovery of the ugly truth, but right now Jack is very far from such a transformation. Irina is playing with fire.

Even if Jack breaks Irina’s neck, she thinks it will be worth it if she can first see Nadia only one more time.

As long as they aren’t being sentimental, Irina figures it’s time to lay a few more cards on the table. “When you and Sydney find Nadia, when you go to contact her – I want to be there.”

Jack gives her an incredulous stare.

“I’ll have a tracker implanted in my bone marrow,” she reminds him. “You didn’t lose me last time, did you?”

“You wanted me to. You meant for us to leave you behind in the prison, so you could negotiate with Cuvee.” Jack hesitates; something new has occurred to him. Finally, his eyes meet her. “It was Cuvee – who –“

“Who took Nadia away.” Irina rests one hand on the glass. This is not reaching out to Jack. It’s just her attempt to steady herself.

The bruises behind Jack’s eyes darken, and for a moment he is not made of stone. He is wounded flesh and flowing blood. Irina feels the old longing, the old confusion, and she turns her head from him to end the moment.

Jack says only, “You’ll leave for Possession Sound tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Irina gives him a coquette’s smile. “How will I ever find time to pack?”

His eyes take in her stark, bare cell. Nobody else would think that he gets the joke, but Irina knows how to see the humor behind his stoic face. “You’ll manage. You were always – resourceful.”

“Are you and Sydney making the trip with me?”

“Sloane has tasked Sydney with a mission. She’ll be in – in Asia for the next few days.” Jack must be distracted; he nearly slipped up and said the specific country. Then he distracts Irina in turn with extraordinary news: “But I’ll be along for the ride.”

After Jack leaves her, Irina considers what all this means. If he's coming with her to Possession Sound, then he's ... invested. He says he's after the truth, but he yearns for something more than simple fact.

On one level, Irina wants to believe that it is her she yearns for. She hopes her wish springs from nothing more than the fact that this will make Jack easier to manipulate.

Whatever his yearning is, a daughter might fulfill it. He might come to forgive the woman who had given him yet another daughter. He might be persuaded to many things.

It's a long shot, but then again -- Irina knows how to make Jack fall in love with a lie.

**

END


End file.
